Newkirk's story
by pepper66
Summary: Two short one-shots about the possible origins of Deryn's fellow middie, as well as Deryn's life before traveling to London


Nothing out of nothing

By: Great Big Sea.

Newkirk gazed out at the water, straining his eyes trying to see England from the front of the ferry from Dublin. The old ship he was on was pulled by several mostly-whales; he could see them and their unnaturally composed parts swarming beneath the water in front of the boat. He shuddered, disgusted by the godless beasts. Eagar to get away from them, he ran to the back of the boat as it started moving, picking up speed as the beasts in front sank into a rhythm. He gazed at his home city, beginning to shrink into the ocean, and wished it well. Even if he did grow up on the streets of Dublin, it was still home to him. He was so occupied with watching his home fade of into the distance that he didn't even notice the gentleman walking up behind him.

"First time off the island, eh boy?"

Startled, Newkirk blushed and spun around. The man who had addressed him was in a full dress uniform, from the British air force.

"Aye, sir." Newkirk stammered, "Been saving up fer a year an' a half to get off of it."

The older man looked at him curiously, and visibly decided that he wasn't going to ask about his reasons for leaving, for which Newkirk was grateful.

"Any plans on what yer gonna do when you get to England?"

Newkirk frowned. This was the hitch in his plans, he had no legitimate skills, and he had left Dublin to get away from using his illegitimate skill set. "No sir. Hadn't planned it out that far."

The man smiled unexpectedly. "I remember when I was like you." He said, and reached into his jacket "Just two years ago I left the island for the first time myself. Nowhere to go and all the time in the world to get there. Here" he said, and pushed a small flier into Newkirk's hands. "Just something to think about." He gave Newkirk a last smile and retreated back below deck.

Newkirk stared at the small piece of paper that the man had given him. It had a picture of a handsomely dressed young man grinning roguishly at him. The man was fit and good-looking; hanging off of a rope with one hand, the other was giving Newkirk thumbs up. The caption at the bottom of the picture read

_Join The British Air Force!_

_Excitement! Adventure! Start your career today!_

He gazed at the picture for a minute, and let himself be taken in by the picture. He shook his head, and crumpled the paper into a small ball in his hands, preparing to throw it into the water below him. Arm cocked, he hesitated. Could he really become something other than a petty pick-pocket? He unfolded the paper, and looked at it again. He shoved the paper into his pocket and didn't think any more of it until he arrived in Liverpool. A week later, he and ten other potential midshipmen were onboard the _Leviathan, _and he was ready to try and make something out of nothing.

Mother knows best

By: Tangled soundtrack

It had been a month since her dad had died, and Deryn Sharp found herself standing in a corset (_it enhances your figure, love, really_) a dress (_Oh it looks so nice dear, you look like a proper lady for once_) and a ridiculous hat (they're all the rage love) trying to make a pot of tea. Almost before the funeral was over, her mother was trying to transform fourteen year old Deryn into the proper lady she would never be (_oh don't be so pessimistic Deryn; we can turn you into a lady yet!_). She hadn't spoken a word to anyone since her father was killed, and she was crying almost constantly since she had found out. Her mother thought that this was improper behaviour for a young lady, and so put Deryn up to all sorts of ridiculous tasks to try and get her mind off of the accident. Yesterday it was embroidery (_every lady should know how_). The day before that, polishing the family silver (_a useful skill, you'll put it to use if you ever settle down and get married like a normal girl dearie_). Today, making tea.

Deryn had thought, apparently mistakenly, that tea was fairly difficult to foul up. A proper cup of tea was evidently the difference between success in life, finding a rich husband and dying old and alone in a poor house. Her mother had told her that there was no man that would court a woman unless her tea was hot, strong and perfect. As this was such an important part of courting, her mother had explained to her earlier that morning while stuffing Deryn into a corset, it had to be done in the finest clothes she had, so any potential suitors would admire her grace in carrying a pot of tea. Her mother was at this very moment waiting in the sitting room for Deryn's tenth attempt at a respectable pot of tea.

Deryn personally thought the whole thing was a load of bollocks, but swearing was forbidden in the house now .No proper ladies swore, neither would Deryn, (_Well,_ _we are trying to make you into a proper lady, don't you know dear_). Not that she had spoken a word since anyway. There was also a strict no pants rule (_really love, I thought you had outgrown that_), as well as any un-ladylike behaviour. Deryn was having trouble adjusting to this new life, as nothing she had ever done with her da had been "lady-like", and she had been wearing pants and overalls since she could first toddle around the house. Apparently there was more to a girl than being born one, but Deryn didn't know or care enough to know how many different types of thread it took to make a daisy, or how much Mrs. Alexandra's quick polish should be used for a sugar bowl, or how long _to boil a bloody pot of tea!_

In a single instant, the pressure that her mother had heaped onto her, the depression and the swirling masses of guilt that had surrounded her since her father's death welled up, and with a yell she knocked the teapot off the stove. This caused it to shatter on the floor spilling dregs of tea and hot water. She ripped the stupid, feathered hat out of her hair and ran out of the house, hearing her mother's protests fade into the distance as she ran through the streets of Glasgow. She didn't stop until she reached the airmen's academy in the center of town, and sank on to the steps her head in her hands. An hour later, when the classes were let out, she was still there. This was the way that her brother found her as the boys emerged from the double doors that were the front of the school. Jaspert sank down beside her, and put an arm around her shoulders. It was then that Deryn said her first words in a month.

"Jaspert"

"Yes?"

"I need to fly again."


End file.
